


Moonlight

by Colaris



Category: Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colaris/pseuds/Colaris
Summary: A lonely house in the forest is often keeping secrets. In this case beautiful secrets.. //Scriddler
Relationships: Jonathan Crane & Edward Nygma
Kudos: 5
Collections: A crow finds a riddle in the dark





	Moonlight

“One after the other, Ed. Where the fuck did I put that stupid screw now? Damn. Bugger me. It can't just have vanished into thin air! For god sake!” The tinkerer sighed in exasperation and threw several tools over his shoulder, quietly talking to himself with clenched teeth. His entire workplace was a complete mess and any attempts to control it ended with the fact that the chaos after cleaning was often worse than before. At this point, the black-haired man had to admit a bitter defeat in his life. The shambles couldn't be tamed, no matter what he tried. Edward systematically rummaged through a large pile of bolts and nuts in a metal can, occasionally cursing when touching the sharp edges of some implements. His fingers finally fished out the correct object. He grinned wider, let the iron rotate skillfully between his fingers and muttered with conviction: “Well, there we have the culprit. No one escapes Edward Nygma.” With that, he turned back to the broken microwave and inserted the missing screw into the fitting opening in the metal case. The device had surprisingly stopped working yesterday evening. It was no problem to replace it with a new purchase of course, but where was the fun in just rebuying it? The tinkerer absolutely loved taking care of defective equipment and getting things working again, that any other mechanic would probably have thrown in the trash right away. The Riddler leaned down a bit and fumbled with his fingers on the timer. The lamp inside started to glow promisingly. To confirm his suspicion, he put a porcelain plate in the microwave and turned it on. Hopefully, a few minutes would be enough to heat up the dish. The Master of Riddles crossed his arms over his chest and watched the action with observant eyes. Edward groaned slightly, tapping his upper arms impatiently with his fingers. It was absolutely incomprehensible to many other villains, why the infamous Riddler often dealt with obvious trivialities. In their eyes it was just a complete waste of time. The tinkerer grimaced a bit and stared at the slowly descending digits on the black display. Most of the criminals simply had no idea how his brilliant mind worked. He wasn’t really capable of multitasking, but doing just one thing for half an eternity plunged the black-haired man into a deep depression sooner or later. A lack of success was a poison for his soul. Foresighted, the inventor had got used to the habit of including such short works, even if there were actually more important things on the to-do list. His partner was very different in this point. Jonathan almost never made it seem like he didn't mind getting results right away. Just the permanent further development of his fear toxin and the search for confirmation of his daring theory of fear reduction in human beings would drive the Master of Riddles insane in no time. Perhaps, that was one of the main reasons, why he almost always failed in his plan to humiliate the bat brain, which was clearly underexposed and shouldn't be a huge challenge under normal circumstances.

Edward growled in frustration. Batman had been able to solve every single one of his puzzles so far, even with little difficulty. Sometimes the black-haired man wondered whether the dark knight didn't secretly have some helpers behind him. Maybe that was why he got the answers so fast every time. There was really no other logical way to explain it. His ideas were far too brilliant and sophisticated to be resolved so quickly. A loud beep signaled that the minutes were finally over. He opened the door of the microwave and touched the plate fearlessly without thinking, then drew his fingers back immediately. The man cursed louder than planned: "Damn, it's freaking hot! Well, at least the baby is working again. You're the best, Edward. As always of course.” The Riddler grinned and put his aching fingertips in his mouth, cooling the skin with his saliva. There was probably no device that he couldn't fix somehow. After a while he let his fingers slip out of his mouth and began to tidy up the table, putting the used tools back in the right places. That action probably made no sense to an outsider, but even in this apparent chaos, there was some kind of order. As a proof, the tinkerer usually never had to search long when he needed something from his work area. Jonathan of all people had to make fun of this at regular intervals and was very amused by this situation. In principle, this was more than contradictory from his partner, as he himself had no functioning system for meaningful organization and the countless laboratory utensils in his room simply came to rest where he had just used them. Edward snorted calmly. The constant accuse of Jonathan, that he's the mess in the relationship was on the verge of ridicule. Edward quickly let go of the ludicrous thought and strolled towards the hallway, turning off the light when leaving his workshop. Fortunately, they shared a common habit of leaving the lamps on in the corridor. The tinkerer strode across the gray wood on the floor, looked carefully into the adjoining room on the left, and raised an eyebrow. To his amazement, the laboratory was empty. His lips formed a thin line. Was Jonathan going to the toilet or, to the great surprise of whole Gotham, indulging in something to eat? The Master of Riddles walked into the stuffy room and dared to take a look at all the papers on the desk. A total mess.

He picked up an almost fully written sheet of paper, which somehow seemed out of place for him, and stared at the lines in pure disbelief. The former psychiatrist had a typical doctor's handwriting and it had cost the tinkerer some nerves to be able to decipher it to some extent. Even now there were still words on the piece of paper that he could only interpret with a great amount of creativity. The unknown characters and numbers between the text made it still clear, that the older man was working on some new parts of his formula. Chemistry had never been Edward's specialty. With a small sigh he put the paper back on the table and went to the window, slowly moving the dark green curtain aside. Even if the sun was staying a little longer on the sky in autumn, twilight fell surprisingly quickly over Gotham in the early evening hours. The soft red gradually gave way to an almost dripping darkness. The Riddler put his hands in his trouser pockets and looked at the surrounding area with an uneasy feeling. That they had to live near a forgotten piece of forest and that the first signs of a possible civilization were a good ten kilometers away emphasized the eerie atmosphere. Jonathan clearly enjoyed the solitude, or rather the intimate togetherness, in the Victorian house. In return, he was willing to take several miles to get to the next suburb. The brown-haired man had withdrawn more and more in recent years and finally decided to eke out his existence outside of society. Edward smiled softly. That was phrased a bit pessimistically, but hit the point quite well. He knew that his partner absolutely loathed unnecessary small talk between neighbors. He had probably worked as a psychiatrist long enough to be fed up with humanity for a lifetime and beyond. The Riddler, on the other hand, found the situation in pure isolation still extremely strange and it made him more than nervous when noises from the forest slipped through the open windows randomly. He would never admit it openly to his partner, but it was quite scary to live here in the woods. The inventor averted his gaze from the window and went back into the hallway, searching the rest of the first floor for the gaunt man. When he found no trace of Scarecrow in the living room either, the black-haired man paused for a second. Had he forgotten an appointment? Not really. Edward took out his pocket calendar and slowly flipped through the weeks, finally stopping at the current day. Nothing. He frowned. Had there been a valid reason for Jonathan to go outside and leave him?

The tinkerer went to the glass door to the veranda and dared a look out at the white, slightly shabby wooden framework. The misshapen ceiling lamps were all rusted from the constant rain. The Riddler stretched his head a bit more to be able to see better into the blurry distance and finally spotted the very narrow back at the other end of the creaking floorboards. He slowly pushed the door aside and stepped out into the cool night air. Without any hurry he walked to his partner, leaned next to him on the wooden parapet and followed the staring eyes of the former psychiatrist up in the sky. The full moon stood ominously in the center of the blackness, clearly stole the show from the great number of twinkling stars beside it. The brown-haired man was breathing heavily, almost in awe: “Isn't it a breathtaking sight, Edward? When I look at the glowing constellations in the night sky, I feel how insignificant my short existence on earth actually is. Fascinating.” The Master of Riddles was startled, but initially said nothing about this cruel statement. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. A gentle breeze caught the couple on the porch and made them both barely noticeably trembling. The black-haired man finally mumbled: “Not really, John. I find it rather scary to occupy myself too much with my own impermanence.” The other gave a muffled laugh and turned slowly to the tinkerer. Edward let his eyes slide leisurely down from the dark sky, stared into the pitch-black forest. A few crows flew out of the tree tops with a loud crack and briefly covered the moon. Distracted, the inventor didn't notice that the former psychiatrist had hold out his hand to him. A quiet throat clearing made him suddenly aware of the unexpected gesture. The Riddler looked inquiringly at his partner, then hesitantly touched the long fingers in front of him. Jonathan took a step closer to him and placed his other hand on the hip of the black-haired man, smiled meaningfully. The Master of Riddles still wasn't quite sure what the other was up to. The lean man spoke softly: "Don't be afraid, Edward. Even if your existence will not matter to many, your presence in my life will make a huge difference.” With these words he began to move, gently leading his significant other through the night in a slow dance. The Riddler blushed slightly and finally put his free hand on the older man's narrow shoulder, surrendering to the unusual moment without really questioning it. He studied the angular face of the brown-haired man, looking for the many bumps on his pale skin. The blue, icy eyes drilled deep into his soul as usual and searched successfully for all the small and bigger secrets that Edward wanted to keep to himself.

Jonathan was extremely talented at drawing out every painful detail in his life without revealing too much about himself. The tinkerer didn't even know if the older one was a Gotham native. There were clear indications that the former psychiatrist did not come from a big city, or at least had not lived in one for a long time. He was overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of the main streets far too quickly and preferred the quieter suburbs to the lively center, although this only had disadvantages in his actual situation. In addition to these signs, there was also a strange accent, which the thin man tried to desperately suppress. It was only audible when he was immensely excited or visibly upset. Otherwise Scarecrow was a walking mystery. A mystery he still couldn't solved. Edward blinked two times and carefully laid his face into the crook of the other's neck, instantly enjoying the faint warmth emanating from him. The pleasant smell of roasted coffee rose to his nose. Jonathan usually drank at least one pot of the black liquid and since he often played with a few beans while working, his fingers also smelled of freshly brewed coffee. The former psychiatrist's chest rose and fell evenly. The Master of Riddles closed his eyes, simply relaxing, listening to the rhythmic beating of the heart of his counterpart. They moved in unison across the floorboards, only accompanied by the gentle glow of the moonlight, which tried to cast its shadows on the wooden facade. Edward clawed his fingers a bit deeper into the soft fabric of his partner's oversized shirt and practically held onto it. After a while he heard the hoarse voice of Jonathan's whisper: "We are immortal in moments like this, Edward." The tinkerer shuddered slightly and looked up in amazement, staring breathlessly into the blue eyes of the gaunt man. Jonathan leaned forward without a word, tenderly sealing their lips in a sensual kiss.


End file.
